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The Secret Island

Celine Pierce… a fashionista and an heiress to a leading clothing company. She is accustomed to getting her own way with her model good look, charming smile, and her papa’s five credit cards. She is never truly satisfied with life as everything comes too easy. Everything… boys, bags, grades, money… everything. Life in every party. The kind of girl girls admire. She gets everything easily. Except for his heart. He never tells her how he felt, the mysterious man she met on a small island in the Mediterranean Sea. She only knows his name, and the only things she has of him are memories during those two weeks together. The two weeks that changed her whole life.

Alexis_Mo · Urbain
Pas assez d’évaluations
22 Chs

His Soul 

"You accused me of being too quiet, and now you don't say anything." Martin made a note of her silence. She stole a glance at him after taking a small bite of a sandwich. He was drying his hair with a towel.

After we swam together for a bit, Martin went out and swam separately. He was intensive in his sport as if doing an Olympic practice, leaving her alone to gradually enjoy the cold water. What kind of person is this serious?

Celine was deep in thought—a feeling was slowly emerging inside her heart. She didn't know what it was. The feeling that every attention is drawn to one thing...one person...

She suspected it was not an admiration. No, he was not even her type. He was not a charming speaker. He lectured her on everything. How could she like someone like that?

"Is it delicious?" Martin asked, and he smiled at her causing her heart to skip a beat again.

…But he was kind…

Celine shook her head without looking at him but quickly turned away after catching only a glimpse. She didn't dare to look at him again.

Feelings are something difficult to control, and she didn't want them to be something uncontrollable.

"Martin, can we go back to the villa?" She wanted to shower, get change, and try to understand this new feeling.

"Oh, we are going back already? Well, the sun is getting strong. I guess you might want to walk around town in the afternoon."

He stood up before her and extended his hand. She stared at that hand and hesitated for a second before reaching for it to let him pull her up from the sand.

All that afternoon, we walked through the town together. That plan of trying to understand her feeling needed to wait. She sneaked a glance at him from time to time. She didn't realize when this happened, but once she knew it, they were holding hands while sightseeing.

"Can I go to that bookstore for a while?" He pointed his one free hand to an old bookstore.

"Sure." She had had many boyfriends before now. Only handholding shouldn't be much of a concern. Still, experiences did not prepare her for this feeling.

"What genre do you like to read? I'm thinking of buying new books, maybe something we both like. What do you think?"

Martin was clearly more relaxed after the swim and now even joyful after we were in the bookstore.

"I can read whatever you like." She answered softly.

Wait, what was that voice? Did I use that voice with Martin? What the hell? No! And what did I say? Oh, my! I've lost it. I've totally lost it! What is happening to me?

"Alright, alright, cool." Martin was in a good mood while gradually selecting books, not seeing her—a woman lost in her confusion, puzzling over her reactions—her words and actions were perplexing even to herself. She didn't know what to do.

"I think this should be a good one we can share." After leaving her to fight off her confusion for some ten minutes, Martin walked to her with one thick old book. That book seemed rare.

A book in Fashion Business Management?

She looked at it and looked at Martin. He was grinning once again.

"Didn't you study fashion? I checked out the pages and found some interesting insights, and the pictures are divine. Please consider this a gift from me. You really help me feel like I'm on a real holiday, not stressing at home alone." He explained. She looked long at him, seeming quite pleased with himself, flipped the pages, and showed her what he thought was interesting.

Celine didn't pay much attention to the book but to the man who was so thoughtful in finding her this unexpected gift.

It might have been her overwhelming feeling or her usual habit, or simply a display of gratitude—Celine walked closer to him and closed their distance with a hug.

"Thank you, Martin."

He stopped explaining, and she looked up at his face.

She saw he glanced down and his cheeks turning red. An adorable sight that made her smile.

"Thank you! I really appreciate it." She knew he might feel embarrassed by this gesture in public, but she wouldn't release this embrace.

"….."

"I'm really glad. Thank you, really thank you."

"Yeah, don't worry too much about it."

Today, she learned another thing about Martin—he was really cute when he was shy.

******

The day started with a smile and ended with a surprise. She discovered that Martin had many friends here. Shopkeepers greeted him because he was a regular customer. There was a bookstore owner, Roberto, who gave a discount as soon as he saw Martin. There was also Carlo, a young Italian businessman who came to chat with Martin for a short while when we sat at the cafe for coffee in the late afternoon.

Celine also wouldn't forget to add Adriana, a voluptuous waitress at a traditional cuisine in town that was getting too friendly with Martin for her own comfort.

He was here two months before her, and it shouldn't be too surprising that he had made some friends on the island. Celine thought to herself. The thought was strange and a bit foreign.

She felt strange. Because a small world that seemed to have no one else but us had more participants, she had no knowledge of. There were people who knew Martin more than she did. There were people who had more fun chatting with Martin than she could. And there were people that Martin might want to spend time with that weren't her.

Even though she didn't think much about it, she couldn't help but get annoyed. She was usually the center of everyone's attention, so having to sit quietly and listen to Martin talking to others was not something she enjoyed.

That woman, Adriana, was laughing at Martin's every word. And today, she found out he could speak Italian. He even joked around. What humor.

Celine knew that sooner or later, her curiosity about everything related to him would drive her crazy. She decided to speak to him more tomorrow and asked about the reason for coming to the island. But she had to sleep for now; the weather was pleasant tonight.

After being half asleep, Celine was rudely awoken by the noises from the living room. Dazed, she got out of bed and opened the door to inspect what was happening.

The whole room was still dimly lit. She walked closer to the tall figure lying on the sofa and murmuring words unconsciously while still deep asleep.

"Martin! What's wrong? Wake up! It's just a nightmare!"

She shook him, trying to wake him up, but Martin remained asleep. In the darkness, she saw his frown, and she heard him muttering apologies.

"Martin, what really happened to you? What is going on?"

Since she couldn't wake him up, Celine embraced the frightened man. She hugged him tightly and spoke consoling words into his ears, just like what her mother used to do when she was a kid.

"Everything will be alright. Don't be afraid. Don't worry. Everything will be alright."

All she could do was just snuggle him close and repeat these words until he calmed down.

"What caused you to be this scared?" She wondered aloud. Her voice was the only sound in the darkness except the steady breathing of Martin, who was now lying still.

She knew there was a world beyond this small world of just the two of us. A world that is not limited to just this island. But what she suspected was what kind of world; what kind of society forged nightmares and caused Martin to eventually mutter this phrase in his sleep.

The phrase that answered her question.

"I've sold my soul to the devil."